


Christmas Cookies

by QueenCarol



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Henry memory, fatherly ezekiel, motherly carol peletier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22062349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCarol/pseuds/QueenCarol
Summary: Some family traditions are best left in the past.  Some are too important to forget.  Canon compliant but set in the future.
Relationships: Ezekiel & Carol Peletier, Ezekiel/Carol Peletier
Kudos: 7





	Christmas Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> Carol Peletier, Sophia Peletier, King Ezekiel, Henry, Jerry, Shiva, and any other recognizable character or plot of The Walking Dead belong to AMC Network and Skybound Entertainment, Image Comics and Robert Kirkman.
> 
> In no way is the author claiming ownage of any of the characters nor is there any economic/monetary gain at any time. The author is extremely respectful of the original creators and is willing to take down this work of fiction if requested.
> 
> No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Original characters are the property of the author.

__  
Christmas Cookies  
__

It’s Christmas and Carol is doing everything in her power to forget the festivity.

From the moment she’d opened her eyes that morning she had attempted to be as busy as possible. She’d rolled over, woken Ezekiel and made love to him as tenderly as she could, then she’d laid in his arms while he went back to sleep. She’d eventually gotten up and prepared breakfast which was just toast and coffee. After clearing the small kitchen table Carol had gone out to hunt. She’d focused all her energy in tracking a deer which she’d brought back to Alexandria. With some of Daryl’s help, she was able to prepare it which took a good chunk of time out of her day. She’d tidy up her and Ezekiel’s home, fixed her arrows, even made new ones, helped RJ and Judith with a present for Michonne, aided in re-organizing the infirmary, then trained with her knife. 

She’d done everything she could to not think about Christmas, everything she could to not remember the Christmases she’d enjoyed at Kingdom and to not recall Henry’s smiling face as he celebrated the holiday. But she’s run out of things to keep herself occupied and the memories have run straight back. 

For a second it’s as if she’s back home, at Kingdom, surrounded by flour, chocolate, home-made icing, and happiness. She laughs as Henry playfully dust Ezekiel with powdered sugar before her husband retaliates amidst chuckles. When Ezekiel catches her giggling he leans forward to plant a kiss on her lips before pressing his powder sugar index finger against her nose. No matter their age, her boys manage to make a mess at the kitchen while they try and make their annual Christmas cookies, a tradition born on their very first Christmas as a family. Once the cookies are done, they’ve been handed out and the kitchen has been cleaned, Carol and Ezekiel enjoy a cup of hot cocoa in front of the fire, wrapped in each other’s arms, while Henry stuffs himself with whatever treat Jerry has procured for him.

The warm image is gone in the blink of an eye but a tiny smile remains on her lips. An unexpected thought occurs to her; she’s been running away from the memories all day when perhaps she should have been letting them roll through her, letting them fill her with their warmth and love.

Suddenly all she wants to do is be in the kitchen, baking those delicious cookies that Henry loved to give out to everyone at Kingdom. She picks up her pace, eager to get home and check what provisions they have and if they have enough for at least one batch of them. She can even surprise Ezekiel with them before he comes back from his watch duty.

Carol takes two steps at a time in her eagerness to reach their door. No sooner has her hand closed around the knob that she twists it and pulls the door open. She steps into the warmth of their home, a house that Michonne has gifted them as soon as it was obvious they were back together and staying, and starts pulling at the globes and scarf she is wearing. She’s almost done divesting herself of her winter clothing when she stops cold. The clatter of cookware can be heard coming from the kitchen but unless a walker somehow found its way into their home and is getting a tour of the kitchen, no one should be home at the moment.

Cautious, Carol reaches to unsheathe her knife. She takes silent steps toward the kitchen. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. She’s about to reach the arch that gives way to their kitchen and dining room when a loud crash and a curse rumbles out towards her.

Carol relaxes right away. She sheathes her knife as she finally reaches the dining table and peeks into the kitchen.

What greets her brings a smile to her lips. Ezekiel stands in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his hips, looking dejected at the floor. In front of him and laying upside down is a metal baking pan and the remains of what were once to-be-cookies. His face is smudged with flour or powder sugar, which also covers the island's surface area. Mixing bowls rest on the counter along with dirty spatulas, chocolate pieces, and a glass milk jug.

“What are you doing?” She asks softly though she already has an inkling of what he had planned to do.

He jumps slightly but his frown is quickly replaced with a smile upon seeing her. “Nothing.” He replies in a tone that only a person about to be reprimanded could use. 

“Ezekiel.” Carol uses a playful warning tone as she approaches him. She steps over the disaster on the floor and gives him a gentle kiss as her hands slide around his waist. 

“Sweet.” She says, licking her lips free of the powdered sugar.

“I believe that I am,” Ezekiel replies with a smirk.

She gives him a little smile with a raised eyebrow before informing him of the current state of his face and hair. “You have powdered sugar on your face. Your hair isn’t any cleaner.”

Immediately Ezekiel starts explaining what happened. “I’m afraid our kitchen isn’t fairing any better.” He admits. “I was hoping to entice you with some delectable Christmas cookies, but alas, I am afraid that our cookies are now inedible.”

Remembering the cookies on the floor, Carol takes a step back from his embrace and kneels to help pick them up. Her hands are soon joined by his and they work as a team to have the kitchen floor mess-free and the spoiled unbaked cookies in the wastebasket. Ezekiel doesn’t stop there and continues cleaning the mess he has made by clearing the counter of the bowls, measuring cups, spoons, and the mixture of powdered sugar and flour. Carol watches him silently, her chin resting on her hand as she leans on the counter.

“You were doing his cookies.” She finally whispers once Ezekiel moves towards the sink, no doubt ready to start washing the dishes and utensils he’s used. “Henry’s cookies.”

Carol knows that he’s heard her by the way his shoulder’s slump and his head rolls forward. She pushes herself away from the counter and moves to embrace him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against his back. “Yes.” He admits. “We’ve gone six years keeping the tradition. Last year...”

“I know.” She whispers. It takes all her strength to not dissolve into tears, especially when Ezekiel turns away from the sink and wraps his arms around her.

“It felt wrong not to do them this year,” Ezekiel explains. “Our son may be gone but his memory remains within us. I wanted to honor him and to present them to you, but I made a mess out of things.”

“You didn’t.” She promises before rubbing her face against his chest. “Accidents happen. God knows we had many of those all those years we made the cookies.”

She can feel the vibrations of his chuckle against her face which prompts her to lean her head back and look into his chocolate eyes. “Do you remember that year that we fell asleep with the cookies in the oven?”

“Yeah, we woke up to Henry frantically trying to get rid of the smoke.” She recalls with a laugh of her own. “Or the time he used too much milk and they were all just a blob that took far too long to cook?”

“They were still delicious,” Ezekiel says with a nod.

“They were bland.” Carol reminds him to which Ezekiel laughs and agrees with another nod of his head. “But you are right, they were delicious.”

“Not as delicious as the time Henry doubled the amount of chocolate for the recipe. They were so sweet but you were the happiest, munching on your cookies.”

Carol closes her eyes and scrunches her nose as she recalls how delicious that particular batch had tasted and how proud Henry had been. That year they had all had a sugar high and had slept in far too late after crashing the night before. What she wouldn’t give to go back to those times and give her son one more hug and to bake another batch of cookies with him.

“Let’s do them!” She suddenly declares before pulling away from Ezekiel to gather the ingredients they’ll need. “For Henry. For the memories.”

A bright smile appears on Ezekiel’s lips which is quickly mirrored on her own. Together they clear up the remaining mess and start preparing the second batch of holiday cookies. In between mixing ingredients, they recount all of their fond memories with their son, including the times he’d gotten in trouble. Despite not making a mess, Carol still ends with the tip of her nose dusted in powdered sugar that Ezekiel has left behind after kissing her and Zeke ends up with sticky lips and fingers after licking the spatula, something he’d always done alongside Henry.

When they’ve finished baking and decorating, Carol looks proudly at their efforts. They are far from professional but they are still presentable. She knows Henry would have been proud of the cookies they’ve made and that he would have been eager to spread the cheer but somehow she’s not quite as ready to see the cookies go. 

Ezekiel must have felt her hesitation for his hand slides into hers, interlaces their fingers and squeezes gently. “Come here.” He tugs at her hand to get her to come to him then gently embraces her. “Our son would have been proud.”

“He would have.” She agrees with a sniffle. She doesn’t want to cry, doesn’t want to make any part of this sad, but her tears are still treasonous and slide down her cheeks. Her thumb discretely brushes away the tears that have rebelled before she burrows against his chest. “Once the icing has fully set we’ll give them out.”

“Then we have time to spare.” Ezekiel pulls back and offers her a grin. “Would my Queen find it in her favor to have a cup of hot cocoa with her King?”

He hasn’t forgotten the next step in their family tradition; hot cocoa in front of the chimney. “I’ll get the fire started.” She whispers before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips, grinning when his beard tickles her skin.

By the time she has the fire roaring in the chimney, Ezekiel has made his way to her with a cup of hot cocoa in each hand. She strokes the fire one last time before joining him near the couch. Carol takes the offered mug before sitting down and taking a sip of the warm liquid. It’s delicious, created just like she liked with an extra shot of syrupy chocolate whose origin she will not question. Before sitting down beside her, Ezekiel places the cup on the end table and reaches for an afghan which he half wraps around her. Carol holds the end open so that he will be able to slide under the warm material. He sits down beside her, reaches for his cup then hands it to her. She waits while he wraps the afghan over them then hands him his cup back. Before he can say anything, Carol leans against his side and settles in with a sigh and a drink of her cocoa.

“Thank you for the surprise.” She whispers.

“But I failed at accomplishing such task.” Ezekiel reminds her.

“Doesn’t matter,” she promises. “I had been avoiding even thinking about it all day but then it all came back and I just wanted to do it for him. Imagine my surprise to find my husband trying to bake on his own so that I could enjoy some of Henry’s cookies. Making them with you and remembering our son together made it even better.”

Ezekiel slips his arm around her and cuddles her as close as he can with both steaming mugs in their hands. “Then I am thankful for my failure.” He admits before placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Perhaps not thinking about Christmas and forcing herself to not recall their family tradition had been wrong. Continuing those traditions in honor of their son is a better way to spend her time than to force herself to do dozens of menial tasks that do not fill the aching hole in her soul. It isn't perfect and it is nowhere like the time they’d spent together if Henry was with them, but it is still important and full of love as they learn a new way to spend the holidays as a couple. It gives her a different sense of satisfaction that serves as a salve to the most painful parts of her being. 

Out of the pain and loss, a new tradition has formed. One that she has every intention of keeping alive for as long as she and Ezekiel drew breath. It is a tradition in honor of their son, the light of their lives, which she sees reflected in each little face and grin sent their way when they finally go around giving cookies to the children and in her husband’s happiness as the children hug them in thanks for the treat. 

As they go back home, walking hand in hand, Carol knows she will gladly continue baking Henry’s cookies every Christmas time to come. She will do it for Ezekiel, for herself, but most importantly, for Henry.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys can forgive me for posting this so late. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!


End file.
